Say, shall my little bark attendant sail,

Pursue the triumph and partake the gale?

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle iv. Line 385.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail

To reach the distant coast;

The breath of heaven must swell the sail,

Or all the toil is lost.

William Cowper (1731-1800): Human Frailty.

This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing

To waft me from distraction.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 85.

Learn of the little nautilus to sail,

Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle iii. Line 177.

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Thus I steer my bark, and sail

On even keel, with gentle gale.

Matthew Green (1696-1737): The Spleen.

On life's vast ocean diversely we sail,

Reason the card, but passion is the gale.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle ii. Line 107.

Sail on, O Ship of State!

Sail on, O Union, strong and great!

Humanity with all its fears,

With all the hopes of future years,

Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

Henry W Longfellow (1807-1882): The Building of the Ship.

Sail on, O Ship of State!

Sail on, O Union, strong and great!

Humanity with all its fears,

With all the hopes of future years,

Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

Henry W Longfellow (1807-1882): The Building of the Ship.

Nail to the mast her holy flag,

Set every threadbare sail,

And give her to the god of storms,

The lightning and the gale!

Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894): Old Ironsides.

On thy fair bosom, silver lake,

The wild swan spreads his snowy sail,

And round his breast the ripples break

As down he bears before the gale.

James G. Percival (1795-1856): To Seneca Lake.

For what avail the plough or sail,

Or land or life, if freedom fail?

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882): Boston.

O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,

Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free,

Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,

Survey our empire, and behold our home!

These are our realms, no limit to their sway,—

Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.

Lord Byron 1788-1824: The Corsair. Canto i. Stanza 1.

A wet sheet and a flowing sea,

A wind that follows fast,

And fills the white and rustling sail,

And bends the gallant mast.

And bends the gallant mast, my boys,

While like the eagle free

Away the good ship flies, and leaves

Old England on the lee.

Allan Cunningham (1785-1842): A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea.

Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea

Loves t' have his sails fill'd with a lusty wind,

Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack,

And his rapt ship run on her side so low

That she drinks water, and her keel plows air.

George Chapman (1557-1634): Tragedy of Charles, Duke of Byron. Act iii. Sc. 1.